


Before the Dawn

by sohrkhai



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8054104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohrkhai/pseuds/sohrkhai
Summary: Following the storyline from the end of 2.5, WoL and co arrives at Camp Dragonhead after escaping from Ul'dah. Some fluff to fill up the time in between.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of things happen in this part of the msq, and I wanted to write about the thoughts behind the actions of my favorite characters.

The situation had escaped your grasp before you were able to piece together the subtle warnings of unrest beneath Ul'dah's hollow peace. 

As you are carried off into the night on Cid's airship, your thoughts fixate on your fallen comrades.

Nanamo...Raubahn... the Scions of the Seventh Dawn as they remained behind, one by one, to clear a route for escape... Wilfred. Gods, the boy deserved anything but a quiet death so far away from home. His death had prodded you to suspect the ranks of the Crystal Braves, yet you were too powerless and naive to prevent the treachery that unfolded at Ul'dah. You, the so-called Warrior of Light, could not protect your own friends. No amount of regret can undo the damage that has been done. You slowly realize that you were no more than an emblem of mock trust being waved around by the Syndicate. You clench your fist.

Next to you, Alphinaud had given in to sleep. You gently wrap your cloak around him and give his head a light pat, genuinely wishing for him to find respite from the turn of the day's events. Assured that he is settled warmly at your side, you turn your attention to the horizon, gazing emptily into the night sky as the first wisps of cold wind reaches the airship. You are approaching Coerthas Central Highlands.

\--

The frigid air gives way to the welcoming warmth of Haurchefant's office as you and Alphinaud enter. Though it must have been only a few hours of travel thanks to Cid's airship, it felt like you had traveled for days. The hour was late, and you note that the usual line of sweating and squatting soldiers were absent. Haurchefant frantically rises from his seat upon seeing you and Alphinaud enter, apparent that the news from Ul'dah has reached his ears. You watch wearily as Alphinaud strides ahead to speak with Haurchefant. He listens intently while Alphinaud recounts the events that had led up to their visit, occasionally looking across the room at you in a concerned manner. Alphinaud completes his account and turns his gaze to the floor, downcast. It must have taken every ilm of his strength to relive these events and put them into words. You quietly thank him for taking on this difficult task and make your way to Haurchefant's table.

"Lord Haurchefant has agreed to grant us succor. He says that we will be safe here..."

Alphinaud reported, his voice strained. You give him a comforting nod and turn your attention to Haurchefant, whose expression had been grave but he manages a smile for your sake.

"Master Alphinaud told me your tale. It warms my heart that you should turn to me before all others─and I shall endeavor to deserve your trust."  
A rush of relief fills you upon hearing his words. Before you can form words to express your gratitude, he adds, apologetically:

"Alas...the situation here has grown more complicated in your absence. 'Twould be best if I explained in full."

\--  
At its current position, Ishgard is unable to offer them refuge. A new wave of Dravanian assault besieges Ishgard, making it unlikely that their request would be heard. Waving aside the difficulties for now, Haurchefant fervently urged you and Alphinaud to proceed to to Intercessory, where a few of their friends were waiting. As to reassure you and Alphinaud further, he adds:

"You are more than welcome to shelter here for as long as you wish. Pray think of it as a new headquarters of sorts -- the 'Falling Snows' or some such!"

You couldn't help but smile wistfully at this statement. The thought of frequenting here as the new Scion headquarters wouldn't be bad at all.

"All frivolity aside, any who come here in search of you will receive no aid from House Fortemps. For once, the Ishgardian reputation for inhospitality shall work in our favor."

"Agents of Ul'dah will find their every inquiry dismissed, and their every request for entry rebuffed, until such time as their masters have acknowledged your innocence."

Haurchefant ends his declaration with cheer and ushers you and your friends to the Intercessory.

As soon as you enter, you are greeted by a tearfully happy Tataru and a beautiful woman with silky black hair. Taking a closer look at her purple garments, you realize that you are looking at Yugiri without her head cover for the first time. 

"Beautiful, isn't she?"  
You nod your head in complete agreement to Tataru's statement.

After Tataru and Yugiri recount their own escape and what they know of the other comrades at the Rising Stones, you take solace in what you were able to salvage, but at the same time the four of you are painfully aware that you closest friends are still missing, if not worse.

" 'Tis all my doing.."

Sitting by himself next to the long wooden table, Alphinaud whispered into the floor.

"I believed myself the only one who truly understood Eorzea's woes. And look what that arrogance has wrought." 

He lets out a soft laugh in self-mockery, and continues bitterly:

" 'Twas all a means to feed my own vanity... Only when all is lost do I finally realize the truth."

You wished that you had a way with words to find the suitable ones to comfort him. Both Tataru and Yugiri also remained silent as well, unsure of how to approach Alphinaud in his current state. Perhaps having listened in on the conversation upon his return to the Intercessory, Haurchefant walks by Alphinaud to place the giant mugs of hot chocolate on the table, and turns to the young elezen.

"So, Master Alphinaud, are you content to remain a broken blade? Is there no flame hot enough to reforge you?"  
"What of the fine companions who yet stand at your side? I daresay the fires of their determination will soon have you slicing the air again with your customary wit!"

Alphinaud, moved by Haurchefant's fervent encouragement, raises his head to look up for the first time since entering the Intercessory. 

"I hardly deserve such friendship. And besides, where are we to go...?"

Also inspired by the knight's words, Tataru finally finds her voice and hops to help lift Alphinaud's spirit.

"To Ishgard!" She blurted out nervously and continued.  
"Minfilia told me many times: as long as we stand fast against despair, the beacon of hope will never be lost to sight."

With a fire once again burning in their hearts and a direction to follow, they set aside their unease for the moment, and turn their focus on the future.

\--

Reinvigorated, Alphinaud began to discuss their plan of action with light in his eyes. You listen in while you sip the hot cocoa Haurchefant brought, indulging in its rich flavors. How long has it been since you've felt so at ease? You struggle to recall a time since you've been branded as the Warrior of Light that you've truly relaxed. Your thoughts begin to wander as you take in the warmth of the hearth, the sweetness of your drink, and the comfort of having found a sanctuary at last.

"What are your thoughts on this matter?"

Alphinaud had turned to you, expecting feedback in regards to his plan, only to find that you have nodded off prematurely, your head still dipped towards your hot cocoa and dangerously close to making full contact with it.

"It appears that we have lulled our warrior to sleep," Haurchefant chuckled. 

"Thank the Twelve." Alphinaud lets out a sigh of relief as he gently moved the object of immediate danger away from your face.  
"I do not believe she has slept at all since we escaped from Ul'dah."

The statement takes Haurchefant by surprise and he glances over at you sympathetically.

"E-everyone, may I suggest that we retire for the night?" Tataru asked in earnest.  
"If it's not too much trouble, Lord Haurchefant."

"A splendid suggestion, Miss Tataru. I shall have Corentiaux lead you to your lodging anon!"

Haurchefant gestures to Corentiaux, who had been quietly standing guard near the door. With a polite bow, Corentiaux leads Tataru and Yugiri to the door. As Alphinaud rises from the table to follow, he pauses abruptly, forgetting what had slipped his mind.

"What are we going to do about--"

He never finishes his sentence. 

Cradled in his arms, you have been picked up from your seat by Haurchefant, armor and all. The scene catches Alphinaud off guard such that he gaped for a few moments, before finally scrambling for words.

"L-Lord Haurchefant! You mustn't trouble yourself-- if I may, allow me--"

Amused, Haurchefant grins at Alphinaud warmly.

"Perhaps in a few more summers you may. Please do not worry. Rest assured, I will deliver her to the finest lodging available at Camp Dragonhead."

Alphinaud hastily nods in response and rushes for the door, confused and slightly flustered.

\--

Gently, as to not to wake you, Haurchefant settles you on the bed and removes the parts of your armor that would hinder you from sleep. Having completed this task with tedious modesty, he wraps the blanket up to your neck, seeing to it that you are snugly tucked in. You are peacefully asleep, and now breathing a lot easier thanks to the soft fabric and the absence of the extra metal. Smiling at the peaceful scene before him, Haurchefant places his hand on your forehead and strokes it lightly.

\--

A girl who is a few summers younger than him. It is easier to see that now when Hydaelyn's champion is deep in slumber. The people of Eorzea seem to have forgotten that they are loading the burdens of the world on her alone, with each request becoming more and more demanding and dangerous. Awed at first by her triumph over Ifrit, the people now take for granted that she would be ready to fell the next primal, a matter of exterminating pests as they come. Haurchefant frowns slightly at this thought. She didn't owe the world to be carrying its full weight. No one should have to.

When word that the Warrior of Light had rescued his childhood friend Francel first reached his ears, Haurchefant envisioned her to be a burly, muscular adventurer, weathered and experienced. Perhaps this image was catered too much to his personal tastes. He was pleasantly surprised when she uncloaked herself. No, she was no where near the hulking figure that he had imagined, but still finely toned and quite pretty. He greeted her with robust enthusiasm as one would greet the woman who saved his friend's life, but only after he fought by her side did he realize that the tales had not been exaggerating at all.

She fought tact and finesse, honed to a mastery far beyond anything Haurchefant had ever witnessed in his years of battle. Enemies fell onto the snow swiftly under their seamless teamwork. He remembered how he shivered with excitement, still drinking in the heat of battle long after their enemies had been defeated. Be it the blessing of light or not, he was awestruck by how much strength a single person can hold. 

"Lord Haurchefant?"

Broken from his reverie, he realized that he must have been staring intently at the adventurer, who somewhat nervously tried to break his passionate gaze. 

"Ah, my apologies. I must say that I was quite taken with your unique style of fighting! The Warrior of Light, shedding her sweat upon the snows of Coerthas! Yes, splendid!"

He chuckled, remembering how she immediately recoiled and turned around, trotting back to Camp Dragonhead at a hastened pace. A bit too forward on his part, but he wasn't the one to be modest about what he fancies. 

By her second visit to Coerthas, she had grown only stronger. The times he had sent her off to investigate the perpetrators cutting off their supply chain to Revenant's Toll, he noted that a certain weariness had set in on her shoulders. His eyebrows furrowed with concern for his friend's health, but the situation did not allow time for respite. The investigations inevitably escalated to yet another primal to defeat. Why, he thought, could Hydaelyn not spare another blessing on him so that her chosen champion would not have to fight alone? He saw her off with wrenching regret after she had nodded stoically at their behest to cull Saint Shiva. The more Eorzea and Ishgard depended on her the lonelier she became. She had simply accepted this fate and took it upon herself to protect the land, while she had so little to lean on herself. But there he was, tied to his desk by the responsibilities of his military office. Despite trying to rush to her aid, he was obstinately restrained by several of his own men. By the time she returned safely to the camp, he had been so sick with worry his mountain of paperwork was forgotten anyhow. Though visibly wounded by her last battle, she beamed at him and his soldier all the same to report that their troubles have been temporarily put to rest, her priority to assure them in spite of her own fatigue. It was then that he realized his fondness for her had grown into something much more.

Mulling over these thoughts, Haurchefant strokes her forehead a final time before making his own preparations to sleep. He had just pulled on a light tunic when he hears a faint murmur coming from the bed. The adventurer is turning and tossing uneasily in her sleep. 

"...orry...I'm sorry..."

She apologizes, over and over, muttering the names of the people she couldn't protect. A single tear rolls down her cheek and stains the pillow. Haurchefant quickly comes to her side and seats himself on the edge of the bed, resting his hand on the hand that was tightly clenched over the blanket.

_I do not believe she has slept at all since we escaped from Ul'dah._

She must have known that the moment she relaxes, she could no longer stay strong for her younger companion. It aches him that there was so little that he could do. Carefully, Haurchefant reaches for her cheek and caresses it soothingly with his thumb. He continues until her breathing finally eases.

"My friend, know that I will always be the shield at your back, to protect you and to be leaned on, even if the rest of Eorzea had forgotten. "

As if to seal his promise, he leans in and places a kiss on her forehead.

\---

The soft chirps of the morning birds wake you. You gingerly rise up from possibly the most peaceful sleep you've ever had to an unfamiliar surrounding. The morning light shoots its iridescent beams onto stone walls, where banners sewn with the four houses of Ishgard and maps of distant lands hung. Aside from a few standard furniture -- an oaken desk, a weapon rack stowed near the door, some storage cabinets, the soft bed where you sit--the room is relatively sparse in decoration.

You've just deduced a few guesses as to where exactly you are when you noticed that you are not alone. Well melded into the beam of sunlight lighting up the bed, the Lord of Dragonhead lies asleep at your side an arm's length away, save for the hand that you, in fact, tightly held. 

Your startled self releases your grip promptly, but fails entirely to free yourself from Haurchefant's iron grip over your own. As embarrassed as you are, you cannot fault him for your current predicament, so you sigh in resignation and observe his face as you wait for him to wake up. You are quite used to seeing him in the orange lighting of his office, which makes this a rather novel experience. The light blue tint of his tresses seems to melt into the morning light, leaving ripples of silver that shimmer in the sun. Drawn by the beauty of this scene, you quietly reach over with your other hand and softly trace your fingers over his silver strands.

As luck would have it, Haurchefant stirs awake fuzzily as you are just about to attempt another touch and smiles broadly at you with his head still lying on the bed.

You instantly turn red from cheek to ear.

You withdraw your hand and turn your head stubbornly to the wall as though you could actually feign away the embarrassment of being caught red-handed. 

"The coloring of my hair is something my mother and I share. My father tells me this often."

The mention of his mother catches your attention such that you whip your head back to face him. Rarely does Haurchefant speak of his mother that you wondered how he felt about her. From your occasional visits here, you have learned fragments of his past from speaking with him or overhearing conversations between the soldiers stationed here, but you are reluctant to pry more about his complicated family history. There is a tender glint in his eyes as he reminisces briefly, before he abruptly reminds you why you turned away in the first place.

"As such, you may grace me with another, if not plenty of touches, if you please."

He flashes you his most innocent smile, sits up, and gestures welcomingly with his hands stretched out. Seeing that your eyes had all but glazed over, he takes your free hand and playfully places it on top of his head, conveniently closing the distance between you and him. You are just about to completely rustle his hair with vengeance when the door bursts open.

Alphinaud topples into the room, betraying his usual demeanor, followed by a worried Tataru. His eyes beam with relief when you enter his field of vision.

"There you are! I must say you had us quite worried when we woke up in the morning and could not find you---"

He stops mid-sentence as both he and Tataru belatedly notice the proximity between you and Lord Haurchefant. After a pause that seemed like an eternity, the young elezen hastily rushes forward and separates you and Haurchefant with both hands, blushing furiously all the while. He directs his first confused inquiry at Haurchefant, who is doing his best to stifle a laugh.

"Lord Haurchefant! With all due respect, you told us that the Warrior of Light would be housed in the finest lodging in Camp Dragonhead! But this is--"

Haurchefant holds up a placating hand at Alphinaud.

"You are most correct, Master Alphinaud. I did, in fact, bring our splendid warrior here to the finest lodging we have available."

And with his most brilliant smile:

"My chamber!"

An abrupt silence ensues as Alphinaud collects himself and begins to reproach Haurchefant as politely as the extent of the Eorzean dialect allows.

"Lord Haurchefant, while I understand that you mentioned your private chamber being the warmest room in the camp, I must say..."

You watch the elezen youth fumble for words to a happily smiling Haurchefant from the comforts of your blanket. In midst of struggling to convey his message to Haurchefant, Alphinaud seems to have realized the meaning behind Haurchefant's previous invitation to his private chamber and is now turning another shade of red. Despite having discovered that you have spent a night on the Lord Dragonhead's bed, you are oddly at peace with this new piece of information and can't help but chuckle at the scene before you. 

In your dreams, you vaguely recall that you were chasing, reaching for something beyond your grasp. But somehow the feelings of guilt and defeat had left you in the night. You look thoughtfully at your free hand, and take a brief glance at Haurchefant, who is still cheerfully nodding and agreeing to Alphinaud. Perhaps, being able to hold onto his hand gave you more peace then you'd like to openly admit. The thought of this fills you with warmth, and you smile as you take in the splendid respite that you've been granted.


	2. Chapter 2

To any recruits at Camp Dragonhead who have observed their leader since the arrival of the Scions, it was as clear as a snowless day in Coerthas that Haurchefant Greystone is in a fantastic mood. Corentiaux notes a sharp increase in his superior's efficiency in sorting through the usual mountain of paperwork, coupled with a tendency to hum endlessly, to his displeasure. The chocobokeep finds himself constantly scooping out the surplus of feed that Haurchefant happily piles onto the black chocobo's stall. New soldiers in training lie dead flat on their cots at the end of the day as their trainer, still robust after hours of drill, decides that he himself would join them for another round of squats. As worrisome as his behavior is, the residents of Dragonhead are genuinely happy for their lord. It has been some time since they have seen him like this.

Haurchefant has been diligently monitoring the state of Ishgard's recovery after the most recent Dravanian assault. Requesting sanction for his friends is only a matter of making a quick trip to the city, but it appears that at the moment, the Houses could not afford to divert their attention to such matters, however pressing it may be. Truthfully, Haurchefant is reluctant to visit the Fortemps manor. No, he would never delay the needs of his friends on his own whim, but he couldn't help feeling a sense of relief when news of further delays reach his table. Rarely does he visit his father for personal reasons, and when he does, they never converse for long. 

A part of him also wishes for the Warrior of Light to linger at the camp just a little longer, though he quickly dismissed these thoughts. During the day, she busies herself with various errands from the camp, having insisted that she does so to repay his kindness. By nightfall, however, she returns to Dragonhead just in time to share a meal with him and her younger companions. As the days passed, Haurchefant grew to look forward to the short hours of the day he can spend with his dear friend. And so it was that her absence on this day is extra pronounced.

\---

You didn't think this through. For the past few days, you have been rushing after wildlife, slipping on snow, and riding back and forth between Dragonhead and various spawn spots of certain hunts of the Coerthan wild, slaying whatever you can to help your current host. You decided early this morning, on a rare clear day, that you wanted a break from killing. Still, you were adamant that you must not spend the day idly, and thought it wise to pick up your fishing rod. You recalled fondly the relaxation fishing brought you when you first picked up this trade in Limsa Lominsa. Perhaps reeling up some fish from the local rivers here will please Meguistl. After reviewing your map thoroughly, you set out to the Coerthas River with your trusty bird companion.

The soft chorus of the traveling waters tingled your ears as you reached your fishing destination. It never gets warm in Coerthas, but this day was certainly as close as it can get. You dismounted your chocobo eagerly and trudged your way to the waters. Hooking a lure onto your fishing rod, you released the line into the river and patiently waited for something to bite.

As is usually the case on clear days, everything in the river was reluctant to bite.

You were not discouraged by the poor turnout of your intended dinner and continued to sit quietly by the river banks, occasionally switching out the lures. Mayhaps the gods will find ways to give the current a little push and force out the fish in hiding. As you sat waiting, you slowly relaxed your muscles, allowing yourself to blend in the stillness of the woods around you. You missed moments like this in the early days of your adventuring. Perhaps, someday, you could return to this way of life, to being a nameless adventurer guided only by the bend of the road, and not Hydaelyn's will. Lingering for a while at the Falling Snows (you chuckled at this naming choice) had made you restless in the beginning, but you were able to convince yourself that no amount of restlessness will carry magically to the gates of Ishgard, and decided to set your worries aside for the time being. 

A good morning passed with no favorable catches at all. You were just drifting off into an early nap when a cold sensation tickled your nose. A snowflake had melted on your nose. Winds began to pick up shortly after, quickly drowning out the sunlight with a flurry of gust and snow. As though the gods had heard your complaint, the current, pushed along by the winds, quickened its pace. Something tugged strongly at your line, causing you to scramble to your feet, wrestling with its stubborn might. You felt yourself pulling to victory in this tug of war when you slip on the newly frozen ice beneath your feet. You splashed front faced into the ice cold river and lost your catch and rod altogether. 

 

Luckily, you were at a shallow bend of the river and were never in any danger of drowning. But here you are, raining water from your thin gathering sleeves, trying your best not to jump back in the river when to avoid the cold winds. Normally, you would carry several sets of spare clothing on your travels, but you neglected to do so lately, figuring that you'd return to Camp Dragonhead by nightfall anyhow. Disappointed that your day has been cut drearily cut short, you reach for your money satchel, ready to teleport back for some fire and warmth. You blink owlishly when the familiar feel of your satchel is nowhere to be found. Like your dinner and fishing rod, the river has decidedly carried off your money as payment for the morning spent here. 

Well then. 

Cursing the elements for your misfortune, you huddle up your limbs as much as possible and hope for the best that your chocobo will not peck you for dripping all over his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's so many words already.. oops. I wanted to tack on more, but felt that it would be better organized to put it in a separate chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner hour has come and gone, and there was still no sign of the Warrior of Light. Her companions had noted her absence at the dinner table, but did not thought much of it. There were days she set off on long travels in the past, sometimes longer than intended as she lingers here and there to help those in need. The Scions had discarded their link pearls to cover their tracks, making it unfortunately difficult to contact her. 

Haurchefant mindlessly paced around the Intercessory, where he had just dined with Alphinaud and Tataru. Despite his comforting gesture to her comrades, assuring them that he will see to her return, he was anything besides calm himself. Unable to wait any longer, he left the Intercessory to inquire around the camp for the Warrior's whereabouts, having Corentiaux assist him in asking the residents where they had last seen their guest. The light flurry of snow had evolved into a quickened fury, and every minute spent questioning the residents of Dragonhead aggravated his unease. The search yielded nothing helpful save for a few enthusiastic comments about her morning appetite from Meguistl, until Haurchefant caught a guard on the morning gate keeping shift on his way to the barracks.

"She rode out of the South Gate with naught but fishing gear and her chocobo early this morning. Quite memorable because she was without her armor for once. Mayhaps she rode to the Coerthas River?"

It was very likely that his friend would refuse to budge until she had yielded a substantial amount of catches from the river. With a knowing sigh, Haurchefant considered this new piece of information and swiftly turned to make his way to the chocobo stable.

"But, my lord," the gatekeeper called from behind, "She is the Warrior of Light. I don't believe there is much cause to worry."

He glanced back to give the gatekeeper a sheepish smile and a quick wave, but rushed to fetch his mount nonetheless. The gatekeeper's words were well-intended, and Haurchefant took it to heart that he was simply trying to soothe his nerves, but he couldn't help but arch his eyebrows as he rode out of the south gate on his black chocobo. Fairing well? At this hour, in this blizzard? That's impossible. Not once in his heart did he truly believe that any blessing of light warrants invincibility over the harsh Coerthas clime. Under normal circumstances, his own subordinates would have been scrambling to send out a search party for their lost comrade. Carefully instructing Corentiaux over linkshell to send out a party should he fail to return within the hour, Haurchefant steered his course towards the Coerthas River. The roads were near impossible to see in the unrelenting blizzard, but he knew the landscape by heart. 

\-- 

You couldn't see the road. Thinking back, perhaps it would have been far easier to teleport and try to explain your situation to the guard collecting the teleportation fees, but you stubbornly decided to press on. This was a road you traveled countless times to gather provisions for your grand company, and you were not about to be challenged by some soggy clothing and missing gil. On chocobo back, Dragonhead was a short trip. Some part of your frugal habit from the early days of your adventuring kept you from thinking otherwise. You thoughts begin to wander as you steer your chocobo to where you think the road is. At this hour, you would have shared a hearty meal with your friends by the warm hearth. Haurchefant would be pouring you the hot chocolate that you've grown rather fond of into your mug, asking how you've spent your day and making cheery remarks as you describe it to him. 

 

You catch yourself and whip your attention back to your current snowy predicament. While your mind drifted, your bird companion had come to a complete stop. Confused, you try to tighten your grip on the reins, only to realize how weakly you've been gripping the reins this whole time, and how numb your hands are under your gloves. Your chocobo squawked nervously, unsure of what to do without your direction. Looking at the obscured road in resignation, you finally concede that the snow has you defeated and wearily attempt to focus your mind to teleport. You bury your face in the warmth of your chocobo's feathers as you channeled your aether with great difficulty, shutting your eyes tightly to salvage your waning focus. 

The wind ceased its relentless siege abruptly. You slowly open your eyes, which, luckily, were not frozen shut, thinking that somehow your feeble attempt at a teleport cast had succeeded. It took a moment for you to notice the feel of fabric over your frostbitten back and the presence at your side. In your blurred vision, you spot the familiar flash of silver-blue hair.

Ah. Haurchefant.

You can blearily make out the words "You fool!" while glancing up at his worried face, feeling your hand being clasped tightly and then the familiar sensation of being teleported. 

You wonder if you had simply passed out into an extended dream of being back at Camp Dragonhead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to save up that teleportation fee, we've all been there.


	4. Chapter 4

"You'd be lucky to get away with a mere cold."

The chirugeon muses as she completes her final checks on you. After a chaotic shuffle of replacing cold, wet clothing with dry hempen, you sit pliantly on a bed, wrapped up in a fine layer of blanket. A cold, did she say? You've had miraculous luck with health in all the years you've been alive. A few sneezes here or there, a few runny noses, but you don't anticipate anything worse than that. You observe the chirugeon as she writes down what seems like a summary of your condition. She notices your slightly smug expression at her remark and shakes her head.

"Youthful arrogance. You'll learn."

She taps your head with a sly smile as she gets up from her seat. Giving you a meaningful look and a point in the direction of the medicinal drink she left on the table, she takes her leave from the infirmary. You did not consider yourself to be that young anymore, but you concede that the chirugeon has enough years on her to make such comments. Somehow the hour has grown late. You were in a quiet corner of the infirmary and wanted to at least inform your friends of your well being. The healers didn't like visitors around while they're at work, so naturally you haven't seen Alphinaud or Tataru after your return. By this hour they would be asleep. Haurchefant... 

You belatedly recall that he seemed somewhat upset when you last saw him. 

Of course he would be. The duties of someone in his military rank are by no means trivial, and here you are, making him go out of his way to save you from your blunder. The healers were quick to expel bystanders out of their way, so you saw very little of your friend after your return to Dragonhead. As you bury your face in the pillow in remorse, you set your heart to apologize to him first thing in the morning.

\--

You could feel yourself waking up, but your body was reluctant to comply. Your eyelids weigh heavily against your sockets and your limbs feel oddly fatigued although you have no memory of participating in any intense training before bedtime. The sensation is foreign to you. Ignoring your rebelling eyelids, you force yourself awake and push yourself up to a sitting position on your bed. The world suddenly spins around you, and you pause in surprise. Perplexed, you search your thoughts for an explanation to your weakened state. Was it just a consequence of skipping dinner? You also eye the mug that held the chirugeon's medicinal drink in suspicion, wondering if it was in fact poison. A chill sends a shiver rippling down your shoulders, causing you to crawl back to the safety of your blankets immediately. One would think the healers kept the infirmary well heated.

As you curl up under your blankets, still shuddering from the chill, you hear footsteps echoing through the stairwell to the second floor. The footsteps reach the foot of your bed. Your were hesitant to uncover even your head to check who it was, especially if it was the chirugeon with another cup of medicinal poison. The aroma of breakfast filtered its way into your blanket, stirring your stomach with the promise of reward. You peek your head out in curiosity.

"Good morning, my friend! I've brought you a gift from our favorite cook."

Haurchefant, arms crossed as though having expected the smell of food would goad you from your blanket shell, beamed at you from your bedside. You recognize the plain tunic that he was dressed in from the first night you spent in Dragonhead. Relief fills you as you realize that he doesn't seem to be upset with you. You cover your face with the blanket briefly, hoping that he caught no whiff of whatever embarrassing expression you had on your face just now. Picking up the tray he left on the table, Haurchefant pulls up a chair close to your bedside and helps you to a sitting position before passing the tray on your lap. Your eyes widen at the heap of freshly pan-fried eggs and seasoned diced popoto. You silently thanked the Twelve for Meguistl.

Before you dove into your meal, you turn to your friend. Putting together words to the best of your scant conveying abilities, you apologize to Haurchefant for the troubles you've caused. He raises his brows in amusement before bursting into a merry laugh. You were perhaps prepared for some scolding, so you jumped at his reaction. He pats your shoulder gently as his laughter subsided.

"No apologies are necessary. I only did what any friend would have done! A simple thank you will suffice here."

Your gaze lingers on his smile for a while, the knots inside your heart untied, your breakfast forgotten. Catching yourself, you hastily mutter a quick 'thank you' and swiftly dig into your meal, sadly unable to focus on the taste. There is a slight grating feeling at the back of your throat as you swallow, but you were too absorbed in redirecting your attention that you decided to ignore it. Satisfied that have been fed, Haurchefant grins and nods to himself.

"Lest I forget, I also have a gift for you."

He gestures for you to stretch out your hand, and you do so with curiosity. A single light blue link pearl is placed on your palm, the color of its shine closely resembling the shade of his hair. You eye it with confusion and look up at your friend. 

"I had given some thought into what had occurred, and thought that we should have a means of contact should situations like this arise."

His hand, which had lingered near yours after placing the link pearl, moved in to give your hand a light squeeze as he looks at you with genuine concern.

"It connects only to me. Of course, you may always use it for any trivialities or tales you wish to share. And I do most certainly insist that you use it to contact me for _any_ needs."

You pinch your eyebrows at the grinning elezen before you for his last suggestive statement. Still, you appreciate that he was lightening the mood for your sake. You were starting to feel a little dizzy possibly from your friend's inappropriate jest, but you nod in agreement and thanked him for the link pearl. You rarely speak to the Scions for matters outside of duties, so you welcomed this addition as a nice change of pace.

Noticing something as he held your hand, Haurchefant falls silent, his thumb tracing along the lines of your fingers. To your shock and chagrin, he leans into your face until your foreheads touched, the fold of his eyelids and the lines of his nose suddenly overwhelmingly clear before your eyes. You could feel your cheeks flush while you continuously fail to speak or act. That handsome chin line of his must be the clincher for his admirers, you note distractedly, before giving yourself a mental slap. Your furious debate between staying put or headbutting your friend for good measure ends abruptly as Haurchefant speaks up from this close proximity.

"By the Twelve, you're burning up."

For more reasons than one, you're sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see! how about that Stormblood reveal?


	5. Chapter 5

Seeing that his friend was flushing increasingly red in the cheeks and slightly faint, he presumed, from her high fever, Haurchefant rushed to the closest disgruntled healer available in the next room. What happened next was expected, but no less surprising to the Lord of Dragonhead. A scathing tirade for disturbing the peace and quiet of the infirmary, hasty shuffling of feet to the Warrior of Light's ward, and yet another swift kick from the infirmary. He could use some balm for his stinging ears, Haurchefant reflected, as he sorted through his paperwork back at his desk.

"I couldn't believe my ears, either! To think that the Warrior of Light also sneezes! Quite endearing that way, I'll say."

Some young recruits who had just been released from the infirmary filed into the hall, radiant with the air of freedom. The two lads continued their chatter as they walked over to the squatting corner.

" 'Tis a shame that we were released so early, I would have liked to hear that cute sneeze a few more times."

"What's this? Are you expressing a wish to court the Warrior of Light, or do my ears deceive me?"

The two broke into an amiable laughter and began their warm-up squats. 

 

"No, my lord, it is not permissible to handle important documents over at the infirmary."

The light banter between the young recruits traveled naturally into Corentiaux's ears, and needless to say, Haurchefant's as well. It took a moment for Haurchefant to realize that he had been tapping his desk impatiently for some time, squinting blankly at the important scrawls on the letter he had been reading with creased eyebrows. He could feel Corentiaux's judging stare bore into his back. _The sooner I can focus the quicker I can leave_ , he thought, more or less in vain, as he struggled to decipher yet another poorly handwritten letter. These military leaders could really use some calligraphy training.

\--

The infirmary had no defining differences between the early morning and the late afternoon, save for the lunchtime shuffle when the aroma of meals unknown permeates the halls. A bit of uninterrupted sleep and medicine did well to alleviate your fever, and you were no longer shivering beneath your blanket. You were also awarded, the term healers liked to use, a meal for good behavior, but your inflamed throat made every bite torture and had you put down your spoon half way. You shook your head and made a note to acquiesce to the porridge diet the healers had offered to you earlier. It seemed the more you remain here, the more compliant you became.

Alphinaud and Tataru visited shortly after lunch. Oh, Tataru. The moment she saw you she sniffled harder than you had all morning long and rushed to your bedside.

"We were so worried about you!"

She cried, taking your fingers in her hands and shaking them up and down. Alphinaud soothed Tataru as he also took a seat by your bedside. 

"I-- We were so relieved when we learned that Lord Haurchefant had brought you back safely. Please, my friend, take care."

You were genuinely surprised by the young elezen's concern for you. He was visibly trying to keep his composure, although the tone of his voice tells you he had fretted quite a bit in your absence. He has changed quite a bit since arriving here, you mused, moved by his growth. You reached over to give his head a few light pats. The two filled your noon hours with light conversations about how they have been keeping busy here. You wanted to hug your friends for their heartwarming company, but the thought of passing this plague of yours to them barred you from doing so. Your worry, however, was made unnecessary in the end as both Tataru and Alphinaud both gave you a gentle squeeze before they leave. 

"Pray rest well! We shall be back!"

"H-hang in there! We will visit again as soon as we can!"

You smiled brightly at them on their way out, feeling truly blessed to have them with you. Once again finding yourself left in the silence of the empty ward, you tucked yourself back into your covers and dozed into an early sleep.

\--

You wake with a start, gasping for breath in the darkness. The hollow echo of metal hitting the ground, the streak of wine that flowed through the crease of the marble floor. Your memory of that night is so vivid that for a moment you believed that you were back at the Royal Promenade. Wiping the sweat off your forehead with your hand, you place a palm to your chest and gauge your surroundings. The light of day has long escaped beneath the horizon, leaving only a streak of moonlight streaming through the only window in your ward. Around you are plain stone walls, nowhere close to the exuberant golden halls of the Chamber of Rule. The effect of the medicine, as you guessed, has worn off, and you find yourself shivering with the cold sweat that has built up in your sleep. You have no choice but to breathe with your mouth, for your nose is clogged with something mysterious. Whatever it is, blowing your nose through five different tissues did nothing to clear it. So much for taking a deep breath. You wrap yourself back into your covers, hoping the the fatigue of being awake after hours will overcome your discomfort and bring you sleep. However, you continue to turn and toss under your blankets, your teeth chattering away with every wave of chill. After what seems like an eternity, the sound of the infirmary doors being opened and closed prudently jolts you from your ongoing battle.

Far down the unlit halls you hear faint footsteps approaching. From the absence of healers doing their nightly rounds, you had assumed that the hour is far past anyone's bedtime. Who could be loitering in the infirmary this late at night? The thought of someone lurking in the dark sends another wave of chill and cold sweat down your spine. In your feverish and agitated state, you quietly slide off your bed to retrieve a small dagger from your belongings that were set aside in a corner. No one could have possibly made it past the walls of Dragonhead. This much was clear to you, but the logic does not stop you from moving silently towards the doorway, your back against the wall and your hands firm on the hilt of your dagger. 

The footsteps finally reach your ward and pause at the doorway. Whoever it is must have realized that you were not in your bed. You stifle your breath, weighing your options between restraining this visitor and staying hidden until you get a better view. Right as you decide to make the first move, the visitor hesitantly calls out your name in a voice you know all too well. His voice breaks you out of your spell such that you drop your sheathed dagger onto the ground with a muted thud. 

 

It was just Haurchefant.

 

How very foolish of you to think that an intruder would be here of all places. 

Having heard the sound made by your fallen scabbard, he turns cautiously to your direction. Your eyes meet for a brief moment, before you throw a hand over your forehead and begin to laugh softly in self-mockery. Truly, you must have been delirious. Why, you might pull out your dagger at a passing mouse next time. You can feel tension building up on your eyelids, a tell-tale sign that your eyes are about to well up, but you sniffle hard with your nose, convincing only yourself that it was merely sinus.

"Are you unwell?" Haurchefant asks gently.

When you look up again, he is already by your side, a soothing hand on your shoulder. Only now do you realize that your hands have been trembling from gripping the dagger too hard. The faint moonlight illuminates his familiar and comforting face, and though it was fraught with worry, the sight of it calms you. He shifts his hand to your back and leads you back to your bed, making no inquiries about the dagger on the floor. 

\--

He lets you settle into your blankets, and leaves briefly to fetch a towel and a bin of warm water, setting the lightly soaked towel on your forehead. You exhale deeply at how nice it feels compared to the last few minutes. 

"Sorry, I..."

You begin to say, having regained your composure. You look at Haurchefant, who seated himself next to your bedside, unsure of exactly what to even apologize for. You almost pulled a dagger at your dear friend, and yet you can't even explain what inspired such a irrational move. It seems that all you have been doing lately is apologizing to him. Haurchefant gives you a light wave of assurance, picking up the conversation in your stead.

"I had hoped to visit you again, but sadly my duties kept me rooted to my chair until this hour," he sighs, "I thought to take a cursory glance to see that you are sleeping well at the least. Pray forgive me for startling you."

You shake your head. It was no fault of his that you were out of your bed in the dead of the night. You can see from the looks of his fully armored appearance that he had barely just left his post. He pauses for a moment to observe your face, and continues in a more subdued tone:

"Do you have nightmares about Ul'dah still, my friend?"

You pinch your lips.  
It has been some time since you've last dreamt about that night, or remember that you have. You feel slightly embarrassed to admit that your current ailment exposed your buried fears. You nod timidly at his question. It was hard to make a case for a 'no' answer at this point. 

_Still?_

You notice the subtle wording of his question only after you've already answered it. Searching your memory of the past few days, you realize that perhaps... To your horror, you realize that you must have muttered something in your sleep on the night you spent in his chamber.

"There was a time in my childhood when I was prone to illness and was bedridden often."

Haurchefant, oblivious of mortified look on your face, begins to recount nostalgically.

"I may have gained considerable health along with my height since then, of course," he chuckles, "But for me, company was hard to come by at that time."

You look at him with concern. Given the complicated history of his family, you can see that his relationship with step-siblings and mother may have been strained at best. The thought of a young Haurchefant curled up and shivering alone in his bed fills you with grief.

"It was easy for me to succumb to loneliness and unhappy thoughts in such a state, that is why..." He trails off wistfully, "when my father finally visits me at the end of the day, my heart is filled with joy."

As he concludes his recollection, he smiles and shakes his head, shifting his attention back to you.

"I may not have a healer's touch when it comes to illness, my friend, but please, allow me to offer you my company."

Truthfully, you had hoped that Haurchefant would linger just a little longer. His presence put you at ease, and you were too bashful to ask him to stay after a long day of work. You nod your head in response to his offer, feeling the edges of your lips curl up happily. You were not used to relying on someone else, but seeing as you rarely get sick... 

You reasoned with yourself as you slide a hand out of your blanket and motion towards your friend. He raises his eyebrows in surprise, before returning your smile broadly, removing one of his gloves, and taking your hand into his own. 

The last thing you can remember before closing your eyes was an enthusiastic discussion about black chocobo feed, though you forget why Haurchefant had brought up this topic. The warmth of his hand lulls you into a deep and peaceful repose, possibly a medicine more potent than any mixture the healers can give you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what happened. It's still fluff. probably.


	6. Chapter 6

You wake up feeling feather light and free as though a spring morning had graced you with a short visit in the middle of Coerthas. It is already midday. You hardly slept well enough to oversleep for the past few days, so waking up to the scent of lunch instead of breakfast came as a pleasant surprise. You can't call it a full recovery, but your fever has completely subsided, and your throat and nose has never felt cleaner. You decide to leave your bed and get fully dressed for the first time in days. 

You don't get far before you spot the chirugeon who has been watching over you for the past few days by the wooden table near the wards. Feeling grateful for her care, regardless of the taste of the substance that she concocted for you daily, you walk over to greet her in the healthiest smile you can muster. The creases on her forehead deepens at the sight of how geared you are to exit the building, but she sighs and wave you off.

"Some degree of movement may be helpful for your recovery," she tells you, narrowing her eyes, "but you are not to leave the camp for any reason."

You open your mouth to protest, but she has already turned back to the inventory list that she was working on, giving you no time to voice your dissent. _How would she know anyhow? The doors are wide open._ You shrug as you open the door of the infirmary and bask in the sweet, sweet daylight. The chill air welcomes you with its icy embrace as you walk towards the chocobo stables. You throw your cloak over your head as quickly as you can, leaving only your cheeks to be lightly tickled by the soft snowflakes drifting in the pale daylight. As you approach the stables, you make eye contact with your bird companion, who immediately begin to hop and flap his wings in excitement. Eager to run your hands through his billowy feathers, you make haste to your companion and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in a wad of feathers. Smells like he's been well groomed in your absence. 

You are just about to hop on for a short run when the soldier stationed in the stables raises a hand to stop you.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow this chocobo to leave the stables today, miss," he bows politely, "he had just recovered from a small cold, so he requires at least one more day of rest."

You eye your companion apologetically, petting his head gently. Meandering around in a blizzard in soaked clothing had sent you straight into the infirmary, so it must have been no less easier for your steed to carry around a bag of ice cold luggage on his back. You nod to the soldier and ruffle your chocobo's head one last time before reluctantly leaving the stable, hearing his disappointed "kweh" behind you. It seems that you will be taking a walk instead of a trot outside, which still has its appeal after being holed indoors for so long. As you approach the east gate, you notice that the gatekeeper sets his eyes on you expectantly. Confused as you were, you pretend to mind your business and continue walking, only to be stopped by the same gatekeeper.

"My apologies, but I was instructed to keep you within the camp today."

As the other soldier did in the stables, he bows to you politely, smiling brightly at the flabbergasted expression on your face. You are well past the youthful years of your life, but here you are, more or less grounded by most likely the healers. Undaunted, you attempt both the north and the south gate, and are sadly met with the same polite rejection. You can't very well fight your way out of the camp when you are a guest here, and you are still in no condition to be chased around for a freedom run around the snow. More than displeased that your plans have been preemptively foiled, you half-stomp your way to Haurchefant's office, briskly walk past the squatting knights upon entering the building, and stop dramatically by Haurchefant's chair, your arms petulantly crossed. 

The elezen lord does not greet you immediately, but instead cheerfully finishes a letter he has been writing before turning to you. You narrow your eyes as he beams at you innocently.

"Blessed be! Already up and running, I see!" He motions his arm in his usual fist pumping gesture. "What brings my favorite adventurer here at this lovely noon hour?"

You can't say that you weren't expecting a response of this caliber from him. Going along with his jovial pretense, you inform him that his favorite adventurer has been mysteriously denied exit from Camp Dragonhead.

"My, my," he muses, "Forgive me, my friend, but the healers' orders are absolute."

Stacking up his papers in a neat pile, he stands up and nods to you.

"Now that I have seen to my work, if a light trot in the snow is what you wish for, I would be happy to escort you!"

Immediately to Haurchefant's side, Corentiaux's shoulder jolts uncomfortably, and you see in the corner of your eye that he picks up the pile of papers in a dubious frown. After a short scan, he seems to be satisfied by what he saw. 

Before you have a chance to mutter at least a "yes", Haurchefant has already taken the crook of your arm and began his merry march for the door, leaving you no choice but to adjust and grab ahold of his arm. You certainly are getting your elezen pass to exit the camp, but in your shocked state, eyes wide and heart pounding, you realize that this won't be the peaceful walk you were hoping for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so distracted by Stormblood


	7. Chapter 7

Haurchefant wasted no time marching to the chocobo stable with your hand still holding onto the crook of his arm. Hearing you enter the stables, your chocobo lifts his head in anticipation, but his spirits dampened quickly as Haurchefant leads you away from your usual steed. You had expected to borrow another bird and travel on separate birdbacks, but your friend had something else in mind it seems. He brings out a chocobo that is visibly bigger than the other yellow-feathered steeds in the stable. Giving the chocobo a quick pat on her beak, the knight hops on her back, and offers you a hand so that you may seat your self on the pillion. Behind him, that is. 

 

At first, you didn't pay much mind to your seating. You take Haurchefant's hand and settle on the pillion behind him, somewhat relieved that you won't be scolded later for personally picking a place to escape to. As the chocobo begins jog her way to the door, you realize what you had forgotten to consider. The feathered steeds at Dragonhead are no less well trained than your own, but the ride was still bumpy. You had no choice but to wrap your arms around the waist of the knight seated in front of you. Doing so was only natural, but it still coaxed a blush to your cheeks. Glancing to your friend’s broad back, you wondered what his expression looks like right now.

 

He steers the chocobo north, sending sprays of fresh snow here and there. It was a beautiful day in Coerthas. The passing of the blizzard left behind yalms of untrodden snow in its wake, enveloping the landscape and scattered stone foundations with its smooth, round finish. The light of a winter sun streaming through the clouds illuminates veils of gentle warmth between the shadows. You liked the softness of the sun in Coerthas—just enough to grace you with the comfort of warmth in the cold, and never obtrusive like the sun in Thanalan. You notice the familiar gate to the Steps of Faith loom in the distance and tilt your head curiously. Surely Haurchefant has not received word from the citadel for you and your companions to enter Ishgard yet. Before turning up to the gates, he veers the steed west, past the dragon ravaged walls of Steel Vigil. 

The chocobo stops before a congregation of stones on a cliff facing Ishgard. You dismount from the steed somewhat reluctantly as you have gotten comfortable with hugging your friend to stay warm. Leaving now is like removing the cover of your blanket on a cold morning. You remember this location from the last encounter you had with a dragon terrorizing to-be weds from praying before the mark of the Twelve. You received a generous payment for ridding the site of the nuisance, but you did not dwindle long to sightsee for yourself. Which mark was it, again, that was etched on this stone? Perhaps you should have listened a bit more closely to your employer. Haurchefant, however, beckons you towards the drop. Following his gaze, you turn your eyes to the grey citadel in the distance. The day is clear enough that the stone foundations of Ishgard are remarkably visible from where you stand; the swirling mists that usually blanket the view subdued beneath the Steps of Faith. The sun is slowly inching its way towards the horizon, as the seemingly short trek from the camp had taken a good few hours.

“How do you like it, my friend? This is my favorite view of the city.”

You nod in agreement, smiling as you point out to him that he truly loves his city. Haurchefant considered your comment for a moment, and speaks again, looking back at Ishgard.

“In a way, I suppose,” he smiles wistfully, “To be honest, I do not have many fond memories of growing up in Ishgard.” 

“Oh, pray forgive my choice of words,” he chuckles at the concern on your face, “What I mean to say, dear friend, is that I do love Ishgard. Not because I have very many happy memories of the place— How do I explain this...”

He closes his eyes and tilts his head thoughtfully.

“It is, after all, the city I grew up in, the city where my mother raised me, and the city where I met Francel. Even in my darkest hours, there was something charming about the light rainfall in the spring, or the heat of the summer sun—it has not always been eternal snowfalls here, of course—that ties me to the city.”

As he spoke, the light of day begins to fade into the red and gold of sunset. 

“Ah, I believe this is the view I intended to show you. We certainly are fortunate to see so much of the sun today!”

Both you and Haurchefant now look to the horizon, as the last rays of the setting sun illuminate Ishgard in a brilliant gold. As you take in the spectacle of light before you, you begin to understand why the knight finds the city so endearing and worth protecting. You watch Haurchefant as he beams at the horizon of his precious city, something familiar tugging at the back of your mind.

Noticing your gaze, he turns to you and grins warmly.

“I have spoken far too much about just myself today. So tell me, my friend, what do you love about Eorzea?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does the sun ever hit Ishgard these days? let’s pretend it did. long time no see, life has been keeping me busy and I wanted to be careful with Hauchefant’s dialogue in this chapter. there are things that I may fix late, but I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

You have spent waking hours in your bed asking yourself why there was any need for you to continue to fight for Eorzea, unable to attain an answer before the grey light of dawn filtered into your room. It was easy to entertain the thought of abandoning your post as you grew used to your fugitive status. The few Crystal Braves stationed in major city-states were of a minor inconvenience to you—insignificant enough that you had the audacity to walk unhooded in major cities, grinning tauntingly at the few who recognized you, but left you to your business unchallenged. Laying low permanently did not seem like such a bad idea. 

You realize now, as you considered Haurchefant’s question, what the answer has always been.

You never owed anything to Eorzea or its people to carry the mantle of the Warrior of Light. 

You simply loved the land and wanted to protect the things you held close to your heart, and the land guided you to your path.

You shake your head at your folly and rest your eyes on the dimming sunset, smiling a little. You notice belatedly that your friend’s question to you was not meant to be rhetorical, and that he has been waiting patiently for an answer, albeit a bit confused at the the multitude of expressions your face went through while you were deep in thought. You wave your hand bashfully and describe for him the wondrous sights you have seen in your travels—the cities, towns, and the people you have crossed paths with; and most importantly, the friends who stayed by your side. You give Haurchefant a meaningful smile at your last statement, and thanked him for everything that he has done for you. You think of your darkest hours, and the times his presence alone had been your pillar of strength.

He immediately draws you into a tight hug almost as soon as you uttered the last syllable in your sentence. You jump in surprise at first, but quickly break into laughter as you return his hug and gently pat his back a few times, as happy as he is that you have each other’s trust. You know your friend to be the excitable type, so this level of spontaneity did not come unexpected. But the two of you linger in each other’s arms for what seemed longer than it should have been, and with each passing second, your wish to remain there only strengthened. Realization trickled in slowly, but you finally understand that nowhere else could feel as safe and warm as where you are now. 

As you and Haurchefant relinquish from the embrace, he chuckles sheepishly:

“Come now, let us return to the camp. It would do us no good for you to catch another cold.”

Reluctantly, you allow yourself to be led back to where your chocobo has been waiting patiently. Upon seeing the two of you approach, she lifts herself up from the snow and shakes off the snow on her coat in a flurry. The surprise blizzard inevitably strikes you with full force, such that you had to pat yourself repeatedly before taking Haurchefant’s hand and hopping on behind him. The return journey feels awfully short, and before you had time to contribute anything substantial to the light talk of sword training aside from nodding (he can guess from the pauses in the conversation and the slight movement for your head brushing against his back) and adding in some quick advice, you have reached the walls of Camp Dragonhead. You scarcely took notice of the landscape you passed.

Healthy as you are now, you dare not inconvenience the chirugeons a second time with a reprisal of your cold, but as you enter the camp, you begin to regret not asking the knight to extend your time together outside of Dragonhead. The snug warmth of the chocobo stable welcomes you as your feathered steed happily hop to her stall, ready to rest after a long day of work. Your own chocobo is fast asleep in his cradle. Haurchefant dismounts first, offering you a helping hand off the chocobo. 

But you stop yourself before taking his hand. 

There were many more words yet unsaid, and you needed more time. You wanted to tell him how you felt, that you fear this opportunity would be lost should you end the day here. You open your mouth to speak, but you are unable to piece together your thoughts. Eloquence with words was never your strength, and you wish now that you had picked up some tricks of diplomacy from your younger, well-spoken elezen friend. 

You take Haurchefant’s hand, knowing that pausing for any longer would cause confusion, and the last thing you want him to think is that you were averse to touching his hand. As you lean forward to dismount from the chocobo, you peer into your friend’s face, your mind still running in loops trying to piece together a coherent sentence. You lean closer, scanning over his endearing features—the hook of his nose and the dark circles under his grinning blue eyes, no doubt a product of rushing to finish his work to set time aside for today. Before you were conscious of the fact that you never stopped leaning closer, your lips had touched his briefly.

The two of you freeze, stunned.

And then awareness cascaded mercilessly.

You turn burning red from cheeks to ears and almost fall off the chocobo as you dismount, scrambling away towards the exit like a spriggan with an egg on Hatch-tide day. You are too embarrassed to even steal a glance at the aftermath of your thoughtless act behind you. You make your way past the rows of stalls, gaining momentum as you trip over a stray bale of hay. The first speck of snowflake from the door way drifts onto your hair. You are so very close to clearing your escape.

But you were not quick enough.

You feel a tug on your wrist and stop abruptly, whipping around out of reflex to find yourself face to face with an equally flustered Haurchefant. The two of you freeze yet again, unsure of how to move forth from this situation. His light grip on your wrist tightens as he breaks the silence hesitantly, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes: 

“Pray tell me that was no accident.”

A small tingle of relief that he did not find what you did unfavorable rose above your obnoxiously pounding heart upon hearing this. You gape at Haurchefant for many seconds, shift your gaze down to where he held your wrist, and finally, slowly, shake your head. No, you had kissed him out of your own volition, as haphazard as it was. He places a hand on your cheek and gently traces his thumb on your skin. You can’t help but feel that this isn’t the first time he has soothed you this way. 

As you raise your head to meet Haurchefant’s eyes, you had only moments to take in the relief and joy in his expression, before he pulls you in, and seals your lips with his. He took care that this kiss would not be mistaken for an accident in any way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a hard chapter to write for many reasons, but I did my best and it’s here.


End file.
